


you won't need a real job

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's awesome with kids, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you won't need a real job

Jason's used to being the first one up in the morning. Even Bruce sleeps later than he does - sleeps like the dead, really, all tangled up in the sheets and snoring softly.

But when Jason goes down to the kitchen in Bruce's house one morning, the kid is already up, jangling what looks like Jason's work keys over the cat's head.

"Oh," Damian says when he sees him. The cat starts batting at the cuffs of Jason's sweatpants instead. "What are you doing up already?"

He hasn't had a lot of interaction with Damian since Damian's first little brush with the law. He's usually here on weekends when Damian isn't, or when Damian's at a friend's house. He knows the kid kind of hates him on principle, and Jason doesn't blame him. Jason's - never been in this situation.

The last time he even had _parents_ was -

Anyway. "I thought I'd make us all some breakfast," Jason says. "I know Alfred has the day off, and your dad's kind of hopeless in the kitchen."

Damian snorts. "One time the fire department showed up after a toaster mishap. I mostly eat cereal now."

"Remind me to tease your dad about that," Jason says. He takes the frying pan out from a lower cabinet and gathers ingredients onto the (completely spotless) counter. He loves this kitchen, he really does.

Damian stays within a few paces of him, watching. "What are _you_ going to make?"

Jason thinks about it, then says, "Maybe just some pancakes. Eggs, bacon. Nothing fancy. You wanna help?"

For a minute, Damian doesn't say anything. Jason figures he's about to tell him to fuck off, or whatever the eleven-year-old equivalent of that is. Then Damian says, "I don't know how." Defiant as ever, but still - unsteady.

"That's all right," Jason says. "C'mere, I'll show you. You'll be showing up Alfred in no time."

"Tt," Damian says. "Doubtful." But he straightens up at the challenge, and Jason nudges him closer to the stove.

"Just no firemen today, okay?" Jason asks. "I don't want any competition for your dad."

"Urgh," Damian says.

 

*

 

By the time Bruce wakes up, Damian and Jason are sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. Bruce's hair is a mess, his eyes bleary and his face a little puffy from sleep, and it's all Jason can do not to push Bruce back against the counter, shove Bruce's robe down and kiss him senseless.

"Good morning," Bruce says, blinking at both of them. "This looks nice," he says to Jason. He sits down between the two of them and takes a sip of coffee, which he chokes on when Damian says, "Don't give him all the credit. I helped."

"Really?" Bruce asks. He looks over at Jason, who shrugs. "Just because you're a wreck doesn't mean your kid has to be."

"I'm hardly a _wreck_ ," Bruce says, digging into his food.

"Maybe I should've been a fireman," Jason says. "I would've met you sooner."

Bruce chokes again. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Uh-huh," Jason says. He grins, rubbing his foot against Bruce's under the table. "And we decided since we did all the work, you can clean up."

"Naturally," Bruce says. "Or _I_ could teach Damian how to wash dishes," he tries.

"No," Damian says. He fakes a yawn. "I think I've learned quite enough for the day. Jason's going to teach me how to make crepes next, though."

Bruce looks over at him, and Jason shrugs. At least _someone_ else he knows wants to learn how to do more than open a bag of Oreos.

 

*

 

After breakfast Damian runs off to play video games, and Jason stays behind with Bruce. While Bruce washes dishes, Jason scrubs the counters and tries to get them back to sparkling condition. At least, Jason bets, Alfred has never had to get Sour Patch Kids off the ceiling.

"I'm glad you're getting along," Bruce says after a minute. "I'm sure it can't be - easy."

"For me, or for him?" Jason asks.

"Both of you," Bruce says. "But - perhaps especially for you."

"Well," Jason says. He sets down the cleaner and steps over to Bruce, leaning his chin on his shoulder. "It helps that I'm _really_ into his dad."

"Oh?" Bruce asks.

"Yeah," Jason says, wrapping his arms around Bruce. "I mean sure, I never pictured myself playing blue-haired step mom at this age, but - he's a good kid, Bruce. Mostly."

"He is," Bruce agrees.

Jason kisses Bruce's neck, says, "He's had a good upbringing. And -" Bruce sucks in a breath when Jason touches the gap in his robe, fingers drifting over Bruce's abs.

Bruce turns around, heat in his eyes. "I think -" Bruce says. He pushes Jason back against the opposite counter and licks into his mouth. "I may get you an apron. Something nice, frilly -"

"Pink?" Jason suggests. He curls one leg around Bruce and thrusts _up_. "I do make a hell of a housewife."

"Yes," Bruce agrees. He strokes Jason's face, his hair, and if Bruce doesn't touch him soon Jason's gonna -

"Upstairs," Jason breathes out. "Let's -"

Bruce sucks on his neck, unties the drawstring of Jason's sweatpants and drops to his knees. He looks up at Jason, flushed and gorgeous. "Right here seems just fine."

"You're terrible," Jason says, only then Bruce takes him in his mouth and he tries so hard to be _quiet_. Bruce seems to do everything he can to prevent that, coaxing breathy moans and desperate whines as he sucks on Jason's balls, licks at his cock and sucks it like he's starving for it.

Jason grabs at the counter, grabs at Bruce's hair, but then he has to take one hand off the counter and shove it in his mouth when Bruce hums around him and he comes so _hard_ , nearly falling forward onto Bruce as he does.

"Fuck," Jason says, while Bruce licks him clean and tucks him nicely away. Bruce stands up, smirking, and Jason reaches and cups him just left of gently and says, " _Upstairs_."

They creep upstairs like horny teenagers, but they still don't make it to Bruce's bedroom - Jason shoves him into the first spare bedroom, pushes him onto the bed and climbs on top of him, tearing open Bruce's robe and shoving his pajama pants down.

Bruce shakes underneath him, his grip on Jason's hair tightening as Jason sucks him harder, reaches back and nudges against Bruce's hole until Bruce _groans_ and comes down his throat, holding Jason there as he does.

He lets Jason go as he comes back down, and Jason slides back up his body and kisses him lazy like Sunday morning.

He settles against Bruce's chest, and Bruce's breath brushes his hair when he sighs. "You have to go soon, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "If I still want a job, anyway."

"Hm," Bruce teases. "Quit your job and move in here."

Jason grins against Bruce's chest. "I'd have to take Steph with me," he says. "And I think she and Damian would probably kill each other."

"That's too bad," Bruce says. He kisses Jason's forehead. "Thank you for being nice to him," he says. "It means a great deal."

"Hey, I was a kid once," Jason says.

"Not so long ago," Bruce says.

"That's right, cradle-robber."

"Mm," Bruce says, dragging Jason into a kiss. "Gold digger."

"I'd make an ace trophy wife, wouldn't I? All blue-haired and bad mannered, partin' crowds in combat boots."

"Personally," Bruce says, showing his teeth, "I'd enjoy every minute of it."

They stay in bed for a while longer, until they both realize it's been too long since they heard Damian or his video games. They find him back in the kitchen, rifling through Alfred's recipes.

"No firefighters today, remember?" Jason asks, snatching the note cards out of Damian's hands. Damian scowls and runs back off, and Bruce tips his head down on Jason's shoulder.

"Jealous?" Bruce asks.

"Fiercely," Jason says.


End file.
